


New life

by RoughTweedAction (Donya)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adlock, F/M, Family Fluff, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 07:24:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15214088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donya/pseuds/RoughTweedAction
Summary: Irene and Sherlock welcome their first child.





	New life

Sherlock never thought a day like that would come. Never allowed himself to imagine a quiet, calm morning after the most eventful night of his life, his child's very first dawn. But there they were, all three of them, exhausted and amazed. The sun had just risen, the little one missed that moment, his face buried in Irene's chest, his tiny hands clutching at her instinctively. For the first time since it became clear that was it, they could relax.

'He's so chunky,' Sherlock said softly. Compared to Rosie when she as a newborn, the baby seemed huge. Solid eight pounds and eight ounces, heavier than his father. Sherlock admired Irene more than ever before, despite that being her first time and the boy's weight, she managed to avoid complications and the labour lasted less than twenty-four hours. Not as rapid as Mary's, but in better conditions.

Irene stroked her thumb over the baby's chubby cheek. 'He looks just like in the ultrasound. The same expression of a deeply concerned baby. Is this a Holmes family trait?'

Sherlock remembered that moment when they saw the baby's face for the first time, his round cheeks, his closed eyes and his frown. And one more confirmation of the lack of birth defects.

'I can't believe he's really here,' Sherlock whispered. It felt like he was staring at multiple positive tests only the day before.

'This will take some time, getting used to him being separate from me,' Irene smiled a tiny bit sadly. The heavy bump didn't let her sleep, sit or walk comfortably, but at least she knew she was successfully keeping the baby safe. Once he was born, his journey to independence started.

Sherlock glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost seven. Almost four hours since birth. He could still feel Irene's hands squeezing his shoulders, arms and wrists. He could still hear her final, long cry that broke into tired, weak laugh. The child's quiet whimpers, the sweetest sound he had heard. And after a moment, the first, loud shriek of clear dissatisfaction.

The first direct contact with his son was different than he expected. There was no fear of dropping him accidentally nor a great, overwhelming wave of pure love. He took the precious bundle from Irene and held it with surprising confidence. As he was looking at the baby, his almost purple skin and wrinkled face, he felt peace. Peace and the comforting knowledge that everything was going to be all right. Ten minutes earlier he was terrified, unsure if it would ever end, but the moment he cradled the boy in his arms, he was calm, for the first time in months.

They didn't want to have visitors just yet. The first minutes and hours with their son were magical and too precious to be shared with others. First nursing, first nappy, first outfit, Sherlock couldn't bear the thought of leaving even for a moment, afraid he could miss another milestone. Irene felt the same, she didn't want to take a nap despite being tired. Together they saw the first yawn and heard the first sneeze, wondered for the first time if the boy was sleeping or simply resting with his eyes closed. They counted fingers and toes again, just to be sure and studied the boy's facial features. They tried to guess if he was going to be a fussy baby that had to be held all the time or an easy-going one. They returned to the discussion about his name, still hesitant if Frederick suited him more than Nicholas or Theodore.

They weren't as wrung out as parents of a month-old baby, there was no mountain of baby clothes to fold and Irene was still so relieved the labour was over that she didn't think of the postpartum contractions and bleeding. It was the perfect moment to just stare at the baby, admire their joint efforts and be happy.

 

Mycroft came to see his nephew in the afternoon. The thought of becoming an uncle only increased his usual anxiety, he was more stressed out than Sherlock when Irene was pregnant. Two more pressure points were hard to accept, keeping Sherlock safe was complicated enough. But as soon as he heard the good news, Mycroft dropped everything and went to meet his brother's son.

He managed to keep his composure only for a moment. 'Yes, looks like a baby,' he remarked, glancing at the confused little boy. 'Fully functioning... Can I hold him?'

Sherlock handed him the baby and was astonished by how easily Mycroft slipped into his new role. Without a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, he held the baby close to his chest, supporting his head. The same man who avoided Rosie in fear of being exposed as an experienced and secretly affectionate babysitter.

'Incredible. One of us is a father. A truly impressive achievement.' Mycroft couldn't look away from the youngest Holmes and his grimace. 'He's rather well-behaved for his age. Sherlock cried non-stop for the first weeks. But you're a very good little boy, aren't you,' Mycroft spoke to the baby so tenderly, unable to pretend anymore.

Irene chuckled, amused how by how quickly the boy melted the Iceman. He even rocked the baby gently and kissed his forehead.

'Have you chosen his name?'

'Yes. Jacob Mycroft Holmes,' Sherlock announced gleefully. 

Mycroft wanted to comment on the first name but forgot about it when he heard his own name. 'Really?'

'Yes. Without you and your meddling, we wouldn't be here. Jacob wouldn't be here.'

Mycroft couldn't find the right words or perhaps worried his voice might be heavy with emotions. He focused his gaze on the boy's face, his familiar expression. 'He needs a fresh nappy.'

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock would definitely want to name his son James/Jamie/Jacob... for reasons.


End file.
